


Must You Be So Blunt?

by Ozymanreis



Series: Tumblr Drabbles [34]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Do not Disturb, Established Relationship, Flirting, Fluff, I'd write it all but it'd be nasty and scandalous haha, Lies, Like hours of implied sex, Lots of implied sex, M/M, Romance, Some texting, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, implied sex, phonecall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 16:47:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1865187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ozymanreis/pseuds/Ozymanreis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Uh… dental appointment." Sherlock tries to sound as level as possible, Jim sniggering in the background at his feeble excuse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Must You Be So Blunt?

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt #63: Do Not Disturb
> 
> Oohh 4 words short of not technically being a "drabble!"

**Incoming call: Lestrade**

 

"Dammit." Sherlock sighs, fumbling for the phone vibrating on the nightstand.

" _Must_ you answer that?" Moriarty groans, pulling the sheets up defensively, "I think the Yard can stand to be without you for one day. Besides…" Jim leans forward, closing in on Sherlock's face, "It doesn't seem like you've recovered your breath quite yet."

"Be that as it may… I have a job to do." He tries to regain his voice, "Sherlock Holmes."

But then again, it's rather difficult to sound calm and collected when you've just emerged from a third-of-a-day long sexual marathon that wasn't quite done yet. 

" _Sherlock? I didn't expect you to answer._ " Lestrade had called to offer him to join in on a homicide investigation, but in actuality, he'd planned on leaving a _message_ , seeing as it was eight in the morning, " _Did you sleep last night?_ " 

"No." Sherlock blushes, Jim chuckles. It's not a lie, "Why sleep when there's more interesting things to do?"

 _More interesting things indeed._ Jim winks. 

 

* * *

 

At approximately ten last night, Sherlock and Moriarty had begun texting. Obsessively. Which was odd, seeing as they hadn't ever texted before, though Sherlock had been sitting on "Jim from I.T."'s number for almost a month. It started innocently:

 

**Bored. Got any good murders lined up? -SH**

 

**None that I want you involved in… but I could drum something up, just for you. -JM**

 

Within the hour, the two brilliant consultants were making plans to meet up (Sherlock had felt _some_ guilt over possibly inciting a needless murder). By eleven, Jim was at 221B, both parties _incredibly grateful_ that the doctor was out for the evening (girlfriend or something, Sherlock wasn't paying attention when he gave his reasons). 

Then, within the _next_ hour, the pair was locked in a most diabolical battle of wits. Which somehow lead to them getting in each other's faces, evermore escalating the situation. 

In a flash, they were horizontal on the couch, Jim pinned under Sherlock's firm grasp, mouths clumsily being shoved together. It's still unclear _who_ instigated the attack, but it was suddenly obvious to the two that this was the inevitable conclusion: why _else_ would they have wanted each other's _physical_ presence? They could easily have just argued via text. 

But no, this was happening, things progressing faster than either could've predicted, or even dared to dream about. 

Yet, as the evening quickly showed, it would only be the beginning. 

 

* * *

 

" _Well there's been a double homicide in Kensington._ " Lestrade continues, Sherlock's insomnia being common knowledge, " _Possibly linked to the murders from last week. We're heading out there soon, wondered if you wanted to join in?_ " Sherlock mentally curses, _Of all the days, Lestrade…_ But he knows where his priorities lie. 

"I'd love to, but I'm… um… I'm busy." He couldn't have predicted how awkward it would feel to converse with someone without a stitch of clothing on, even if they couldn't see you.

" _Doing what?_ " The detective inspector didn't usually _pry_ , but it was somewhat unprecedented for Sherlock to _ever_ turn down a murder investigation. Especially a potential serial killer.

"Uh… dental appointment." Sherlock tries to sound as level as possible, Jim sniggering in the background at his feeble excuse. _Relax. Only lies have detail._

" _Oh, well… come get the case file afterwards? You might even be able to meet us on scene._ "

"Possi — " Sherlock's voice catches in his throat as he sees the positively _offended_ look on his partner's face, as if to say, _honey, we aren't anywhere_ near _done yet_ , "I mean…" Sherlock corrects himself, "Don't wait up, it might take a while. Probably all day."

" _It's unlike you to miss a case for_ anything _._ "

"Yeah… it's important." Sherlock can't seem to find his articulateness today, "I'm sorry, I just need to _go_." The last word was almost a yelp, as Jim chose that exact moment to start sucking on the curve of his neck, _you're taking too long, my dear_. 

" _Is everything alright?_ " 

" _Yep_." Sherlock gasps, "Gotta go. _Really_." He hangs up with more force than he intended, callously dropping his phone on the floor.

"Darling," Jim dislodges himself from Sherlock's neck, where he's sure to have a hickey, "That was _pathetic_." 

Sherlock scowls, "This is why I prefer to text."

"Mmm. Suppose I understand, all eloquence goes out the window after say… round six?"

"You give me too little credit." Sherlock smirks, "Round eight, at _least_." 

"Touchy, touchy." They lean in to kiss, but Jim's phone chooses this exact moment to blast the Bee Gees.

"What about your 'eloquence,' hmm, Jim?" Sherlock gestures to the mobile, clearly pleased with himself, thinking he's cornered Jim — the criminal has been through exactly what the detective has, of course. In theory, he should be just as incapacitated. While this is _true_ , Jim has absolutely no qualms with being indelicate. 

"What about it?" Jim sneers playfully, answering the phone, turning on his business voice, "This better be important, Moran."

" _The Thunderclap Project has been delayed, sir._ "

"That hardly qualifies as 'important.'" Jim rolls his eyes, fairly certain that even though Sebastian can't _see_ him, that the gesture was _implied_ , "It can wait until tomorrow."

" _Boss —_ "

"Seb… I just spend the past eight hours waist-deep in my arch-nemesis, I desperately need a shower, and am _possibly_ up for hour nine…" Jim pauses a moment to the let information sink in. Once he's heard the "click" in his sniper's dumbfounded mind, he adds, "So I'm going to need to call you back." 

"And _that_ ," Jim hits the "end call" button with an exaggerated jaunt, "Is how you handle that situation."

"Sorry I don't have your _silver tongue_." Sherlock mocks, but Jim decides to take the double entendre, "Don't worry, honey, you'll get better at it." It takes a moment for the oft-oblivious detective to register the full meaning. 

"You — " Sherlock begins indignantly, but is cut off by Jim pouncing on him.

_Well… proper outrage can wait until after round twelve, right?_

 

 


End file.
